


Honey

by aqua_vitae



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, side tenny - Freeform, yutae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_vitae/pseuds/aqua_vitae
Summary: Maybe Ten is right and it is not just friendship he feels towards Yuta, and it only takes a sprained leg for him to realize that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts) collection. 



  Taeyong fiddles with his earlobe as the lights flicker on and off inconsistently. An apologetic voice booms out from the stage speakers as Limitless dies down. "We are sorry for the technical problems. We will handle this as quickly as possible and the rehearsal will resume once it is fixed." His bandmates files off the stage, chattering in excited voices as the rehearsal is brought to a halt. Sicheng chooses to forgo the staircase and jumps down from the edge, and for a moment Taeyong is mortified that he would end up spraining his leg like he did, but then he remembered it isn't really that far away from the ground and Sicheng is well — tall. The younger boy runs over to him in little steps.  _Cute_ , Taeyong thinks. He pats the seat on his right and Sicheng sits with a thud. "How were we, hyung? Were we good?“ He asks enthusiastically.

  "Of course you're good. You're the best," Taeyong replies, and he feels a little sorry and regretful that he can't join them. Trampolining with Johnny was the worst idea ever. If he hadn't dared him to do that backflip —

  "How's your leg?" Yuta asks from behind him, collapsing into the chair on his other side.

  "Not too bad, it's been a week." He glances over at Sicheng who is now happily distracted by Mark and Donghyuck's banter, and scoots closer to Yuta. He pushes the bangs out of Yuta's eyes and asks, "Are you tired?"

  Yuta grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away. "Don't touch," he said, "I'm sweaty all over. And no, not really."

  "You know I don't mind," Taeyong said in the greasiest voice possible which sends Yuta laughing. He ponders Yuta's answer, but he knows there is no way that he isn't tired, returning from Japan only yesterday and then having to catch on with all the choreography changes because of Taeyong's absence. Yuta huffs, and his eyes narrow into slits with his wide smile. He flicks Yuta's nose lightly and says, "If you're so energetic, why don't you go get me some water?" What he didn't expect was Yuta pushing himself up from his seat and striding over to their manager to ask for water. He is about to stop him, but something makes him fall back into his seat.

  Yuta tosses him his bottle and settles back into his seat. Taeyong takes a tiny sip, he wasn't thirsty at all. He takes a long look at Yuta's chest rising and falling, the rhythm still a bit too rapid from all the vigorous dancing, and hands the bottle over. "Here, drink up." When Yuta pushes it back, he promptly drops it onto his lap and limps away to Johnny and Ten, feeling somewhat hot and uncomfortable. Maybe he is surrounded by too many perspiring people.

 -

  "Aren't you hurt?" Ten asks flatly when he approaches them.

  "It doesn't mean I can't walk."

  "What a pity you still can." "You're not walking, you're waddling." Ten and Johnny say at the same time, and Taeyong swears one day he will get back at them.

  With the lack of a smart comeback, he has no choice but to entertain them. "Waddling is a kind of walking,” he quips lamely. Johnny opens his mouth to speak, and Taeyong makes a zipper movement over his mouth. “You're the one to blame in the first place, so don't you dare say anything more." At that moment their manager comes around and sweeps Johnny away because he's messed up his hair and Taeyong sends him off with a triumphant smile. 

  "I saw you flirting with Yuta over there," Ten drawls lazily. "Not very pleasing to the eyes."

  Taeyong cheeks flush. “I wasn't. And who cares about your opinion anyway?"

  "Johnny," Ten replies.

  "He doesn't count."

  "I gave an answer to your question, what do you want?"

  "Shittaphon," he says, emphasizing the first syllable. He didn't want to stoop so low as to reply to a question with a name learned from their fansite, yet here he is now.

  "There's not much development since last month. I thought I was going to see some more action, but clearly, you aren't putting in enough effort." Very characteristic of Ten to just assume that he liked Yuta, but that is Ten.

  "How many times have I told you that I don't like him?" Taeyong has repeated this line so many times it felt like a feeble excuse.

  Ten waves it off. "You always tell yourself that. Remember: I'm reserving the right to tell you 'I told you so'." Taeyong wonders when he could learn to not say things out of the blue.

  "Whatever," he sighs, exasperated, when the lights started working again. 127 is called back onto the stage and Ten goes backstage to get ready, leaving Taeyong to waddle back to his original seat. He then moves to the left, deciding that it's got a better view. Taeyong watches fondly as the members scramble to their spots, he gives them a thumbs-up, and Yuta catches his eye. Yuta smiled in response, and all of a sudden Taeyong felt embarrassed for no reason. The seat was still warm, but maybe it's just him. The music starts, and he lets out a heavy breath. Ten the ever observant.

   _"You're an ass."_

_"I am also right."_

-

  Despite having denied it, Taeyong is pretty sure Ten can see into his soul with those terrifyingly black eyes. So when Yuta clings too much to anybody save Johnny, Ten or the Dreamies, he gets the urge to pull Ten aside and whine about it. But it is evident that it will not do any good to future him as it will surely become blackmail material. Tonight Yuta doesn't loiter in the living room to find people to get touchy with, so it's fine. It becomes a little more than fine when he ends up in Taeyong's room. "What do you want, Yuta?" he asks Yuta, but the latter ignores his question and proceeds to roll around on his sheets. He had left the door open when he came in, so Sicheng takes it as an invitation to barge in as well and create a mess in Taeyong's room. Despite having the tendency to want to keep things (unnecessarily — quoted from Johnny) clean, he doesn't have the heart to nag at them right now. He puts down his book, unable to read any more because of the commotion, and reaches to close the door in case somebody else thought it was a good idea to come in and add fuel to the fire.

  By the time Yuta and Sicheng have both tired themselves out by ripping the sheets from the bed to use as a carpet and throwing his pillows at each other, Taeyong is exhausted from trying to retrieve his bedding, which had been proven to be pointless. He plants himself face first into the bed, and lines up his arms at his side to pretend to be a corpse. Sicheng yelps excitedly and jumps on him, and he grunts. "Sicheng, don't," Yuta says, sounding serious all of a sudden, and Taeyong lifts his head in hope that at least one of them had recovered from their hyperactive state. "You're going to hurt his leg."

  Sicheng rolls off him and lies beside him. "I'm sorry hyung," he says with his wide eyes.

  "It's fine,” he tells him. He isn't in pain, and even if he was, he wouldn't say it. "But isn't it way past time for bed?" Sicheng peeks at the digital clock next to the bed, and leaves the room with a soft "Oh right" _._  

  "You always use this against him," Yuta laughs. "And he still listens to you."

  "He needs his sleep, he's still growing," Taeyong shrugs, and proceeds to collect his things that are strewn across the floor.

  "Sit down," Yuta says, "Let me do it." It was fascinating, how Yuta can evolve from being a kid on a sugar rush to commanding Taeyong to stay in bed in a matter of minutes. "Did you put on your ointment yet?" he asks, shaking the blanket and tossing it back to where it belongs.

  Taeyong answers in the negative and Yuta looks at him in disapproval. It makes him feel like a kid scolded by his mom. Yuta squeezes the salve from the tube Taeyong hands him and rubs it into his calf. "Better yet?" Yuta asks, and Taeyong sighs.

  "Yuta, I can't get well immediately. It's not magic."

  "But I wish you can," he says, "I don't like to see you in pain." It has Taeyong feeling guilty momentarily. Was he burdening his members by being weak? He quickly dismisses the thought, though, because the soft tone of Yuta's voice hits a particularly tender part of his heart and he forgets to breathe.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he says, "You don't?"

  "What do you mean? Of course I don't." Yuta frowns as he caps the tube and tosses it back into the drawer. "After you get well, don't ever get hurt again. Promise?"

  "Yeah, yeah, sure," he says.

  "I mean it." Taeyong looks up at Yuta with the crease between his eyebrows. Taeyong's chest swells with the concern written on his face, but he also does not want to see him upset.

  "I promise," he says, not caring how frail this promise actually. Yuta isn't happy until they link pinkies.

  Taeyong pats the space on the bed next to him, and Yuta snuggles into him, pulling the blanket over both of them. Taeyong lets him rest his head on his arm, and he pinches his nose. Yuta exhales breathily, looking so comfortable and self-satisfied Taeyong couldn't stop himself. He drapes his other arm over Yuta's waist and rests his forehead on his. Yuta wriggles in his arms, and for a moment Taeyong thinks he might have crossed the line and wanted to draw back. Instead, Yuta pushes his legs in between Taeyong's, and Taeyong couldn't deduce from his action what reaction Yuta wanted Taeyong to have. So he stays as he is, overthinking a tad bit, unable to register if Yuta knew how Taeyong felt for him, and if they were more than platonic. They eventually drift off to sleep after the long day, Yuta's hands braced on Taeyong's chest. Later, Taeyong realizes a little late that Yuta could have questioned him: why he was acting in such a way towards him and never towards other people, but didn't. _What's it mean, then? Since when did you care so much about me? Do you actually care that much?_  he thinks,  _Does he know? Am I getting ahead of myself?_

 - 

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again." Taeyong hears Ten whisper-shout through gritted teeth, and wonders what got him all riled up this early in the morning. He knows Ten is in the kitchen (it was his turn to make breakfast, Taeyong remembers) but he can't see him with a huge hunk of Johnny is blocking his view, and for a second Taeyong thought they were making out or something, but then Ten had sounded so angry.

  "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," Johnny says in a low voice that made Taeyong feel he is trespassing, but he is rooted to the spot. Johnny pulls Ten's head close to him, despite the obvious struggling, and kisses his temple. 

  "Get out of here," Ten said and pushed Johnny outside, ignoring Taeyong's existence. Johnny winced at him, and he has no clue what that facial expression is trying to convey. 

  Yuta blunders into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in weird angles. "What's going on?" He ignores Taeyong too, who has never felt so left out in his entire life. "What did he do this time?"

  There was a long moment of silence, and Taeyong could see Ten biting his lip, troubled. Ten doesn't look up from the pan. "Idiot tried to toss a knife and caught it on the wrong end." He turned off the fire and scraped the scrambled eggs onto a plate. "Cut himself."

Nobody was talking to him, and Taeyong doesn't know what to do, so he picked up the plate and set it on the dining table outside. By the time he got back in Yuta was holding a sobbing Ten in his arms. _Well that escalated quickly_ , he thought. But now that he was here it seemed impolite to just leave, so he stands off at the side. Again.

  "I was so scared," Ten says in a broken voice, and Yuta hugs him tightly and hums. "What if it wasn't just a cut he got? When's the next time it's going to happen if he doesn't start learning to be careful?" Yuta mutters what he suspects to be nothing lowly while Ten cried into his shirt, and Taeyong watches with mixed feelings.

  Taeyong is somewhat amused (he shouldn't be) because Johnny is just the person who would do this kind of stupid thing. He is also unhappy that his bandmates are getting so upset. But what he felt was awe. Partly because something has happened that made the devil's spawn cry. Mostly because he didn't know that a little slip on Johnny's part could have that large an effect on Ten. He awkwardly hugs Ten around Yuta, because he was still clinging onto him, and his eyes travel unconsciously to the him. _So I could have hurt him like that_ , he thinks. He remembers that he and Yuta aren't a thing quickly enough, and he is terrified when he finds himself wishing they were. It's about time, Ten would say if he knew, instead of sniffling in both of their embraces. It's about time, Taeyong tells himself too, when he's recovered from the shock of his own thoughts. He doesn't care if it sounds sick, he wanted Yuta to cry that way for him.

-

  The car door opens and the members hop off one by one. Taeyong takes his time at the back and only leaves when everybody has left. To his surprise he finds Yuta waiting outside at the door, drawing his jacket around himself tightly. "Why'd you take so long?" The cold wind swept his hair to the side painted a blush on him.

  "Pretty," Taeyong says, not taking his eyes off him as he attempted to help him off the bus.

 "Yeah?" Yuta replies with a light smile, and Taeyong believes it not the sting of the rushing air that flushed his cheeks. " _Watch out_ ," Yuta hisses, his tone taking a 180° spin as he almost misses the last step. "Sorry, couldn't keep my eyes off you." Yuta grimaces and lets go of his hand, shoving it back into his pocket. Taeyong surges forwards to link arms with Yuta, much to his surprise. "I don't think I can stay away from you either." This time, Yuta huffs out a small laugh. He shakes his head and smiles at the ground, huddling close to Taeyong.

  "Lean on me," he says. Taeyong doesn't, because he can't feel the pain in his leg anymore. All his senses are trained on Yuta, heightened and reduced at the same time. He was suddenly hyper-aware of Yuta's presence, and it left him breathless.

  "What's wrong?" Yuta asks when the grip around his arm tightens. "Are you hurting?" He looks so genuinely concerned that Taeyong wants to kiss the worry lines off his face and then kiss him some more, until his lips are swollen and red bruises dot his neck.

  "It's nothing." Yuta looks unconvinced, but the crease between his eyebrows disappeared, which is a good thing. "I'll tell you later," Taeyong says, pushing him into the building. They had to get ready for their performance.

  The waiting room was bustling with activity as they walked in. "What took you so long?" Donghyuck asked as he spotted them, "The noonas were looking for Yuta hyung."

  "Sorry, I had to go to the washroom." Taeyong makes up an excuse, and Yuta glances at him, amused. He ushered him to where they were waiting for Yuta to get his makeup done. "I want to talk to you after the performance." Yuta nods, and didn't express any inquiry as to  _why_ he did. Taeyong leaves him at that, thankful. He needed to get some weight off his chest.

 


End file.
